


Demon AU

by AnythingElse



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cliffhangers, Demonic Possession, Demons, Fluff, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 18:02:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16351454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnythingElse/pseuds/AnythingElse
Summary: "Are you...dying?"There is silence, then a hesitant answer. "No more than usual, I don't think?..."This is a fluffy one-shot demon AU!





	Demon AU

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this is a too-short one-shot! I'm sorry!! I loved the story (a prompt reposted on 9Gag) but can NOT seem to finish it.
> 
> Ideas? Feel free to post them in the comments!

Steve Rogers was seventeen when his mom was diagnosed with cancer. The doctors all told him to get ready to say goodbye. The few people he knew avoided eye contact when they talked. Steve was, to say the least, desperate. 

 

Steve lived at his mother's side, caring for her as best he could. He rubbed her back as the painful coughs tore through her small frame and he held her hand as she quietly sobbed into the blankets. He would spend the good days either reading her books or sketching pictures for her.

 

One particular Tuesday, Sarah Rogers kicked him out of the hospital. She claimed that he needed some fresh air, but Steve knew the look in her eyes. He knows she's finalizing what happens after her death. 

 

Anger and despair sweep through Steve as he meanders through a forgotten alleyway. He (stupidly) punches the wall before curling up on the ground. Eyes closed, he makes the same plea that he has made every day for almost a year. He silently begs that he can be taken instead-- just leave Sarah Rogers. Or, if that can't be arranged, just go ahead and take him, too. Tears slip down his cheeks as he cries softly. He doesn't have a clue how he will move on without his wonderful, loving mother. 

 

A loud rumbling sound fills the alleyway, followed by a bright flash of red light and the faint smell of sulphur. Steve blinks, rubs his eyes, and then pinches himself. He really isn't sure what he's looking at. There is a haze of red light and dark grey smoke. In the midst of it is a shadow, like a man. It can't possibly _ be _ , because Steve can see the wall behind the shadow. 

 

Suddenly a voice fills the alleyway, so loud & clear, it's almost like it's inside his head. 

 

“Stop trying to figure it out, you're only going to hurt yourself.”

 

Steve blinks at the shadow. Then shrugs and figures he'll just have to go back to wallowing. 

 

“Nope, no more wallowing for you. I'm here to 'grant your wish’ so to say. First things first, I need permission to enter your body…”

 

Before he has time to finish the thought, Steve blurts out “Ok! You have my permission.”

 

The shadow seems to be shaking, and Steve realizes it's laughing. 

 

“Kid, you should  _ really _ take the time to listen. Especially if someone is asking to  _ enter _ you. You have no idea what I was going to say.”

 

Steve just shrugs. “If it means saving my mom? I don't really care what it takes.”

 

The thing that Steve does not yet know, however, is that Demons can both read minds and determine all lies. Even if someone is lying to themselves, a demon can tell. And Steve Rogers? He's telling the truth. He is willing to make any sacrifice and accept any deal to save his mother. The demon stores this information to use later.

 

“All right, I'm coming in!” He already has permission, but he feels weird just possessing people willy nilly. He pauses for just a second to consider the kid in front of him. Bucky likes to consider himself a fair demon, he doesn't ever prey on the weak or trick people. But something about this scrawny blond kid just seems...off. Humans are innately selfish. When it comes down to it, they will sacrifice anything and anybody to save themselves.

 

That sort of desperation creates a small little static pocket when reading a mind. Demons use it (and exploit it) when determining how a human will act or react. The static, however, also hides desperate thoughts. It's what makes humans dangerous and unpredictable. Steve Roger's mind has a clarity unlike any Bucky has ever encountered. There is no static, no buzz of self-preservation, and it has an oddly angelic ring to it. It's easier to read the mind when possessing the body-- hence the whole 'enter you’ clause-- so Bucky figures he'll know more soon enough.

 

Stepping lightly into the body, Bucky is slammed with a feeling like he's never experienced before. Gasping and falling to his….to Steve's….knees, he clutches at his chest. 

 

_ I...thought…. _ Bucky tries to fight through the pain to convey a clear thought.  _ I thought you were here to save your mother?  _ The Demon asks.

 

_ I am? _

 

The response sounds determined but worried.

 

_ Mr. Demon? Sir? What's the matter? _

 

Still crumpled in agony, Bucky tries to straighten out. Something in his... Steve's...back twinges. He yelps in pain and doubles over again. Pain isn't new to Bucky-- many a dying soul have called for his help when they have no other options. Bucky has endured many agonies, including torture. Whatever is happening to this host is worse. Much worse.

 

_ Are you...dying?  _

 

There is silence, then a hesitant answer.  _ No more than usual, I don't think? I can't feel anything right now, it's like I can see and think, but have no control. I feel...nothing. Am I dying? _

 

The response is rather clinical and lacks the concern Bucky expected. Going over the script of 'requests’ Steve made, he notices he offered to trade himself for his mother. Interesting. 

 

_ My...your...our chest? I feel like I can't breathe. There is this pressure that won't allow me take a full breath. It's also difficult to push the breath back out. The sounds around me are loud, but they sound muffled and distant. My eyes can't seem to focus on anything clearly. There's this wicked pain in my back that worsens when I stand up straight. And everything just...aches. _

 

Bucky can't believe it! Steve, from the depths of his mind, is laughing. Laughing!! 

 

_ Oh. Yeah, that's normal. Nothing to worry about. So, are you able to save my mother? What's the deal? What do you want from me?  _

 

Far from ready to move on, Bucky gasps.  _ Normal?! Don't think you can trick me, kid. I need the truth. What's going on here? Is this the same thing your mom has? I have possessed many in my life, and none have felt like this. Everything just...hurts!  _

 

Bucky can practically feel Steve Rogers roll his eyes. 

 

_ If I tell you, will you promise we can make a deal to save my mom? _

 

_ Yes. _

 

_ The chest pain is asthma. As long as you are careful to breathe evenly, through your nose, and avoid smoke & cold air, you should be fine. The back pain is scoliosis, nothing you can really do there. The aching joints is just arthritis, just avoid the cold and not much else you can do. The muffled sounds is just my bad hearing, I'm deaf in one ear and about half deaf in the other. That weird rustling/ringing is tinnitus, again just have to ignore it. The blurry vision is an easy fix. Just put on my glasses and you'll be able to see pretty well. Satisfied? _

 

Bucky is, in fact, far from satisfied. He wants to sit here and argue with this kid. If he's going to bother summoning a demon, why not include a clause for himself?! Why is he so bent on saving this mother of his if there is no personal gain? Bucky is mystified. He pulls out the glasses and perches them on his face. Suddenly, the world is clear and sharp. Fascinated, he holds the side and tilts them up & down. Humans have some amazing inventions. 

 

The brief action, however, is making his fingers ache. The cool air is making the tightness in his chest even worse, and Bucky simply cannot handle this shit today.

 

_ Nope. Nope, nope and nope. I don't know what game you're playing, but I'm not going to willingly take part in it.  _

 

With a labored sigh that almost becomes a cough, Bucky snaps his fingers. Steve's body is engulfed in thick grey smoke, red light, and the familiar smell of sulphur. Bucky can feel Steve in his mind, panicking. For a human, his mental strength is impressive. Moments from breaking free of the possession, Bucky hisses at him.

 

_ Fucking chill, kid. I'm just fixing your body! _

 

The panic lessened, and a snarky voice cut through the post-spell haze.

 

_ Language. Also, why on Earth are you fixing my body?! That's not what I asked for. Don't you guys have rules or contracts or something?! I wanted you to CURE MY MOTHER.  _

 

Bucky sighs, feeling only a small relief that the air moves easily through his lungs and throat. He is exhausted. This is not what he signed up for. He wanted to simply cure some lady and take her son’s soul. Easy-peasy.

 

_ I fixed you because I have to be inside you right now. I'm not going to suffer just because you have your priorities all mixed up. Hell, kid, you're giving me a wicked headache. For the next few hours, you and I have to get along inside your head. Can you do that for me? Please? _

 

His tone came across a lot more desperate and pleading than he had meant for it to. However, it seemed to placate the feisty boy. The frustrated anger inside his head dissipated and the pressure faded. Finally able to think clearly, Bucky got to his feet. The new body rose easily with thick muscles easily moving the large frame. The sounds of the city were so clear they were almost painful. His new legs strode out of the alley with ease and confidence. He spots his reflection in a window and whistles under his breath. Damn.

 

_ What. Did. You. Do. To. Me?! I thought you fixed me? Did you just turn me into a sick fantasy of yours or what!? _

 

_ Remember how you promised to calm down like, oh, thirty seconds ago? Please, do that. I didn't pick what you look like. It's demonic power, remember? I simply cursed your outside to match your inside. Not my fault you're so damn….impressive. I literally used a common curse on you. I knew enough from your soul-purity that you would no longer suffer from ailments.  _

 

Reaching a small sub shop, Bucky stopped to grab a sandwich. He didn't need to eat, but human food was sinfully delicious. Batting away Steve's protests of being allergic to certain ingredients, Bucky devoured the sandwich. Licking his fingers and humming in pleasure, he sits back in the chair. 

 

_ So, Steve, you want me to cure your mother? What do you have to offer me?  _

 

_ I, uh, well… I thought you guys just dealt in souls? Take my soul, and cure her. BUT! I want a guarantee that she will live long, healthy, and happy. No gimmicks, no tricks. A promise that you will simply remove her cancer without hurting her, now or ever.  _

 

_ And, Steve, you understand that a human cannot live without a soul? You understand that you are offering your life for hers? _

 

_ We'll, Mr. Demon, sir, I'm pretty sure you're wrong. There are definitely people among us who are soulless. But, yes. I'm aware I'm offering my life for hers.  _

 

_ It's Bucky. _

 

_ What is? _

 

_ My name, Steve. My name is Bucky. _

 

_ Oh, ok. Bucky.  _

 

The demon considers the other presence in his head carefully. He is right, of course. Many people sell off their souls but continue to live. Bucky shudders at the thought. Humans are not meant to exist without souls, and the horrendous things they do to each other puts the demons to shame. No, he will never allow a soulless human of his doing to walk this Earth. However, he's really not that fond of consuming souls. Each one contains a whole personality with thoughts, emotions, and memories. Most demons consume them to feel alive while Bucky feels more alive by talking to them or being with them… not eating them.

 

_ No. _

 

He feels Steve's panic rise to the surface again, so he hurries on.

 

_ I'll save your mom. You'll have 10 years before I come for you. We'll seal the deal with a kiss. All the usual shenanigans. But, I'm giving you 10 years to come up with something else. Something better to offer me. If you are unable, I'll take your soul and move on. Deal? _

 

_ Wait? 10 years? A kiss?!? I have to kiss you? _

 

_ Oh my hell. That is the part you're worried about? The kiss? You'll get over it, I promise. Do we have a deal, Steve? _

 

_ Yes, sir. I mean, yes, Bucky. Thank you. I mean it.  _

 

_ I know you do. Eyes closed. _

 

Steve suddenly has control over his body again. It suddenly feels hollow and empty inside his own mind. Eyes clamped shut, he isn't sure he's going to feel the smoky creature kiss him. What if he sits here all day with his eyes closed, just waiting. Then he hears a chuckle inside his head.

 

_ Oh, you'll know, I promise. _

 

Suddenly, a hand is cupping his jaw. A very warm, solid hand. He wants to open his eyes, but he keeps them clenched tight. He's expecting a peck on the lips, and he feels a small puff of warm air as very warm, soft lips press heavily into his own. He gasps a little at the intensity and a tongue darts in between his lips and teases him for a split second. Then, suddenly, there is a sharp pain as he feels teeth dig into his tender bottom lip. Eyes flying open, Steve is all alone. He's panting slightly from the kiss and his pants are suddenly uncomfortably tight. He can still feel the sensation of Bucky kissing him.

 

Walking the 3 blocks back to the hospital is a very strange experience. Steve's body is large and bulky now. He constantly bumps into things and people, not quite realizing the new width of his shoulders. His body moves with such ease that he almost trips a number of times by over-exerting his new, powerful leg muscles. He's also strong-- much stronger than he should be. He tripped earlier and caught his flailing hand on a metal trash can. The edge of the metal crumpled easily under his hands. 

 

He takes a few deep breaths before entering the hospital. He has no idea how he's going to explain everything to his mother. When she finds out, she is going to murder him. And then summon the demon to trade his life for hers for some ridiculous reason of 'balance’. Screw balance! Steve refuses to watch his mother go. 

 

Steve plasters a smile on his new face and approaches the desk. The sweet old receptionist is one of his favorites. Nancy smiles up at him as he leans over the desk towards her. He is not expecting her to recognize him.

 

“Steven!” She smiles and pats his cheek the same way she has since he was three. “Your mother's finishing up with a patient on 8, but she'll be right down. Have a seat, darling.”

 

She goes back to her piles of paperwork and Steve walks away, dumbfounded. She had recognized him without question. And if his mom was working, that means she's totally healed, and not just in remission. If his hunch is correct, Bucky had adjusted their lives-- no cancer, no memories of sickly Steve. He closes his eyes and sends out a quiet 'thank you’ to Bucky. No matter what happens in 10 years, it will be just fine.

 

His thoughts are interrupted by a woman's voice. “Hey honey! You're here? What's the occasion?”

 

He looks up to see his mother walking towards him with a grin on her face. He feels hot tears prickle at his eyes and he has to blink them away. The woman before him is, without a doubt, his mother. But her skin is glowing, her hair is full and blonde and beautiful, and her eyes sparkle with life. “Hey, mom.” He grins at her, relief lifting years of stress from his body. “I just missed ya. Figured we could head home together? I can make dinner tonight.”

 

She nods happily and holds onto his proffered arm as they exit the hospital. It's a habit he picked up from months of her needing his support. Her natural instinct to take it warms his heart. They are going to be OK after all.

 

****

 

Steve sits atop a rooftop surrounded by friends. There is a small fire going in a fire pit and he is watching the flames dance, mezmorized. He is content and happy. He hears Sam's laugh rise above the commotion, and Thor's booming voice as he tells a story about his childhood. Truly, there isn't a single complaint that Steve has. Since that day, nine and a half years ago, Steve has lived each day to the fullest. He lives not just for himself, but for those around him. 

 

However, the time is ticking down, and he is at a loss. He's not desperate, by any means. He never expected to be given 10 years to enjoy the life his mother was given. He definitely hadn't counted on being gifted a body capable of helping others and (he hoped) making the world a better place. As ridiculous as it may be, his biggest fear is actually disappointing Bucky. The demon had said he didn't enjoy consuming souls & hoped that Steve would be able to offer something better. So far, Steve is drawing a blank.

 

Realizing that he is surrounded by wonderful, brilliant minds, Steve stands up with gusto. “Friends!! I require aid!” Laughing and hollering, his friends bear down on him at once. 

 

“Girl problems? Boy problems? Please tell me you are finally getting laid.” Tony laughs and deftly dodges the crumpled napkin thrown his way. 

 

Steve is blushing furiously, but continues on with determination. “I need advice. What is the most wonderful thing one person can do for another? A gesture, a gift, an experience. Something euphoric but meaningful. Immaterial.”

 

His friends are all looking him expectantly. They are hoping for context or backstory, he imagines. Tony mutters something about getting laid again. Clint is the first to make a move and he raises his hand. Steve raises his eyebrows at him. “Uhh, dude? We need SOME sort of context. You know that, right? Are you trying to apologize? Win someone over?” His friend trails off expectantly. 

 

“I need to say thank you to someone with all of my heart and soul.”

 

Natasha gives him a look, but he shakes his head. No clues, even for her. He needs an unbiased answer. “Well…” she starts out carefully, as if weighing each word. “What is the most wonderful feeling you've ever experienced? The happiest you've ever been?”

 

“I think,” says Bruce, “that you have to decide why you're saying thank you. Is it out of obligation? Or do you mean it? And if you really mean it, what else are you trying to say?”

 

Thor's voice joins the conversation. “Actions speak louder than words. Show this person what they mean to you.”

 

“And bring them coffee. Coffee fixes Everything.” Clint's wise word are met with laughs and confirmation. 

 

The advice has Steve's head spinning. They are right and he realizes he can't exactly do or say anything that will come close to making up for what Bucky did for him. This isn't exactly a new revelation, though. He's been searching for the answer for almost 10 years. He's no closer today than he was then. Heaving a heavy sigh, he thanks his friends earnestly.

 

As everyone starts to retreat inside, Natasha comes and sits on the balcony railing behind him. “Is this what I think it's about?” Steve nods miserably, and she sighs. “Oh, Steve.” She doesn't say more,and she doesn't have to. She doesn't know the whole story, but she knows enough. For some reason, the demon’s magic hadn't worked on one feisty girl that had frequented the hospital, visiting a clumsy boy wrapped up in various bandages. She had seen Steve about 3 days later, and stared him down until he felt half an inch tall. 

 

Grabbing him by the shirt, she had hauled him into a supply closet with surprising force. “What. Did. You. Do?” His stunned silence did not impress her, apparently. “Steven Grant Rogers, what did you do?”. He does not know this feisty teen and has no idea how she knows his name. Worry clenches his gut. She jabs a sharp finger into his muscular chest. “Last chance to answer me, kid. What did you promise for this… this… makeover?!” She practically spits the last word out at him. 

 

“I didn't!” He blurts out. “It was my mom. I wanted to save her. He just couldn't handle being in me the way I was. So he...fixed me?”

 

The redhead gives him an inquisitive look. “Demon’s can't ‘fix’ without a deal.”

 

Who, exactly, is this girl? He's not sure he wants to know. “It's a curse? I think. Something about matching your outside to your inside?”

 

The girl whistles low under her breath. “Oh. And your mom?”

 

“She's fine. She's great, actually. So happy. She feels great. I don't quite know what I promised? But it was worth it.” Steve grins dopily, and the girl seems to relax. 

 

“Ok. Come, meet Clint.” She drags him out of the closet and up the hall to meet the boy all wrapped in bandages. She pokes fun at him, but her eyes crinkle up with fondness. That day, Steve made two new friends.

 

Still surprisingly strong for her size, Natasha's deft hands work out all the kinks in Steve's shoulders. “You don't have to thank him, you know. It's a transaction, not a favour. Please, don't forget that.” Her whisper is barely more than a breath against his ear. She kisses his cheek and heads inside to join the party. She's right, Steve knows, but he can't help himself. He feels drawn to Bucky and he wants so badly to make the demon feel his gratitude and happiness. 

 

Standing up and stretching, Steve heads inside. In the back of his mind, he has the slight beginnings of a plan forming. In the end, he is but a simple man. He doesn't have anything special to offer, but maybe he can share his happiness. A soft smile on his lips, he steps inside the glass doors. A warm draft slips over his skin as his heart swells. It's not much, but it will have to do. 

 

Alcohol has never had much effect on Steve, but Thor has a special mixed drink he calls the 'Asgardian’ that hits him like a freight train. Taking two quick shots for courage, Steve sneaks away from the group. He closes his eyes and talks to Bucky inside his head. He'd be lying if he said it's the first time he's done it since that day. But today is different. Today, he needs the demon to hear him.

 

_ Hey, Bucky. It's me again. Steve Rogers. I know you're probably sick of me talking to you, but I've got an idea. It's nothing comparable to a soul, so don't get your hopes up. But, could you maybe come 2 weeks early? If you want. If so, I'll meet you in the alley where we first met. I hope to see you. _

 

Feeling buzzed and riding the adrenaline rush, Steve rejoins the party. Clint has fallen asleep on the couch, so he steals Natasha and they giggle and dance the night away. 

 

****

 

It's December and, despite his fancy new body, Steve is freezing. He sips absentmindedly from his coffee as he sits huddled in the alleyway. It’s been two hours, and Steve is starting to worry that Bucky isn't going to show. It's OK, though. The whole plan was a total shot in the dark from the beginning. Burrowed into his warm jacket, Steve starts to doze off. A loud voice catches him off guard. 

 

_ I'm pretty sure humans that sleep in the snow usually die. If you're that desperate, I don't mind taking your soul today.  _

 

Steve grins at the still-empty alley. “Bucky!” He exclaims. “Oh, do you need permission? You can enter me! Anytime, I don't mind.” 

 

And actual image of a hand face-palming pops into Steve's mind. He smirks. 

 

_ Still as innocent as ever, I see.  _

 

Steve blushes but doesn't reply. The red light fills the alleyway and grey smoke billows wildly. The faint smell of sulphur burns his nostrils, but Steve can only feel happy. 

 

“Nahh.” A voice replies. “This time I'll use my own body. I've been doing a lot less possessing since meeting you. Learned my lesson!”” And then, without warning, the most handsome guy Steve has ever seen emerges from the smoke. He is a little shorter than Steve and perfectly muscular. He has a sharp jawline, soft hair, and glowing red eyes. Steve’s face heats up as he connects this face to the fierce kiss he received 10 years ago. 

 

“Well, damn. I made quite the impression on Young Steve Rogers, didn't I?”

 

Steve is blushing furiously as he tries to feign innocence. “Hmm?”

 

_ Steve, doll, I can read your mind like a book. Remember? _

 

Steve looks mortified. “Can you, uh, change your appearance?”

 

_ Yup. _

 

The voice in his head is smug and pops the 'p’ loudly. And then definitely does not change a damn thing.

 

“So” Bucky voices, thankfully aloud. “I'm all yours for 2 weeks. What's this plan of yours?”

 

Steve shrugs, but he replies easily. “I just want to show you happiness. Oh! I brought you a coffee!” He reaches for the cup still on the ground and it promptly disappears. It reappears in Bucky's hand, and he's looking at it curiously. 

 

“For me?” He asks.

 

“Yessir! If you can, heat it? It's better warm or hot. Sorry, it got cold.”

 

The now-familiar sight of red light and smoke appears at the base of the cup. It's gone in a blink and the demon is bringing the cup to his lips. The warm liquid washes over his tongue and he moans loudly. Steve twitches and looks away. Bucky grins evilly. This is going to be a fun two weeks.


End file.
